Losing My Grip
by Elendraug
Summary: ‘I’m losing my grip, and I’m in this thing alone.’ [ Companion to ‘Closer to the Edge.’ Slash. Aragorn Legolas. ]


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Losing My Grip

By StarWolf

1/21/2003 - edited 4/25/2004

Title: Losing My Grip

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Author: StarWolf (elendraug@yahoo.com)

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Fandom: Lord of the Rings

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Rating: PG-13

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Genre: Angsty fluff?

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Warnings: Alternate Universe, attempted suicide, slash, OOC-ness, messed up tenses

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Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas

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Distribution: No archiving.

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Disclaimer:Tolkien's, not mine. Lyrics are from Avril Lavigne's "Losing Grip."

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Summary: 'I'm losing my grip, and I'm in this thing alone.' (Companion to 'Closer to the Edge.')

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Authoress' Note: Movieverse, after the battle with the Wargs and Aragorn's "death." The king returns.

I desperately tried to fix the fluctuating past/present tense, but couldn't quite accomplish it. Damn.

This was the fluffy companion-fic that I felt compelled to write after finishing "Closer to the Edge." I don't like either of them. Maybe you will.

______  
  
I made it back to Théoden's castle. It was by pure miracle that I survived the battle, the fall, and river. Unfortunately I woke up to a horse licking me.  
  
Oh well.  
  
I rushed into the throne room, desperate to see someone that I know. Anyone? Please...  
  
Legolas. Where is he?  
  
I'd thought for sure he'd be the first one to look for me. I miss him desperately. What I wouldn't have given to have him with me during that whole ordeal...  
  
I had to find him.  
  
[Are you aware of what you make me feel, baby?]  
  
Théoden pointed me in the direction of Legolas' temporary bedroom. I ran there, my spirits rising with each step.  
  
Legolas, I'm going to see you again!  
  
I neared the door, and carefully pushed it open. It surprised me that he hadn't already heard me. His ears were so sensitive -- his hearing so sharp. I wondered...is he alright?  
  
  
  
[Right now I feel invisible to you, like I'm not real]  
  
...no. No, no no... No!  
  
That explained it. Why he didn't notice me. Why he didn't run to the door. Why he didn't call my name, or rush to greet me, or look for me, or _anything_.  
  
Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood, and my dearest friend, was lying in a pool of blood on the floor.  
  
Ai, Eru!  
  
I couldn't even count my footsteps as I dashed to his body, flinging my arms around him and holding up his head.  
  
[Didn't you feel me lock my arms around you?]  
  
He...He wasn't conscious. At the very least.  
  
If we're lucky.  
  
I gently brushed a strand of golden hair behind his pointed ear, careful to avoid getting any more of his blood on it. I shut my eyes tightly, and struggled to remain calm.  
  
Oh, fuck it.  
  
[I was left to cry there]  
  
Who in their right mind expects someone to "remain calm" when they'd just found their closest friend nearly or entirely dead on the floor?  
  
Clutching his limp body to my chest, I simply cried. Tears streamed down my face, and I'd no way to stop them. It didn't matter. I didn't care.  
  
Sauron himself could've walked into the room right then, and I wouldn't have even looked up. I was that upset.  
  
Can you blame me?  
  
No, you can't.  
  
Once I had settled down a bit, I called out for someone. Anyone. Any living person would do at that moment.  
  
I got Éowyn.  
  
[Waiting outside there]  
  
I'd been standing out in that hallway for what seems like days. In reality, it had only been a half hour. It was torture to me.  
  
Why wouldn't someone just tell me if he was alright?! It was obvious that he probably _wasn't_, but it was the waiting that was killing me.  
  
Legolas.  
  
There were so many things I could have told you. Should have. Would have. And now, most likely, I'll never get the chance.  
  
[That's when I decided]  
  
If I could get one more moment with you, I would confess everything.  
  
I love you. Not Arwen, you. I can barely explain the reasoning behind it to myself, but it's true. Even if you...die, I'll still love you. 

  
And you'll never know it.  
  
[Why should I care?]  
  
Why do I trouble myself like this? There is a million to one chance that you're alive. Even less, now that I'm forced to think about it. But I'm still talking to you. Mentally, anyway.  
  
Éowyn finally let me in the room. We don't have any access to the more advanced Elvish medicine, so we're pretty helpless right now. An Elf could have saved you.  
  
I'm not an Elf. I was raised by them, but as much as I'd like to be...I never will become one.  
  
Now I hold your hand in mine, and grieve over your death. My loss, mostly yours. After all, while I've lost love, you've lost life.

  
[You weren't there and I was scared]  
  
I wish you could have been with me when I fell.  
  
You would have comforted me, supported me, awoken me. I would have seen you first, not the tongue of a horse.  
  
What better sight could I wake up to than a beautiful Elf? My best friend and then some?  
  
Now you're gone.  
  
[I was so alone]  
  
It's quiet in here. I can't hear myself breathing any longer. Maybe I've stopped. At this point, I could suffocate and barely notice. I wouldn't care, either. Because if I died, I could join you, wherever you are, wherever that is.  
  
Oh, Legolas... Come back.  
  
[I'm starting to trip  
  
I'm losing my grip  
  
And I'm in this thing alone]  
  
Wake up, precious Elf. My dear friend, come back to us. Escape from the void you must be in.  
  
Come back.... Please. For my sake. I will go mad if I never get to talk to you again.  
  
I softly stroke the pale blonde strands away from your face. The healers cleaned you up a bit. You look much better, even if you may never recover. They said that you lost so much blood, it was extremely doubtful that you'd be able to do anything, ever again.  
  
Never be able to shoot an arrow, smell the fresh air, and see the trees that you loved so much. Or look at me, and smile like you used to.  
  
What happened?  
  
Please, don't let it be my fault. Horrid things like this always seem to be my fault. I don't need any more guilt than I already feel.  
  
It wasn't because of me, was it? Because of my misfortune, getting knocked over the side of that cliff? Is that why you despaired? Why did you feel like death was your only choice, Legolas?

I wish you could explain it to me.  
  
  
  
[Crying out loud  
  
I'm crying out loud]  
  
I cannot help it. I rest my forehead on your chest, and sob into the silvery-white shirt they dressed you in, nearly soaking it. My tears continued until...Your heart. It's beating!  
  
Oh, thank Eru!  
  
New tears flow from my eyes -- tears of relief, happiness...  
  
Hope. My name, or one of them, means "hope." Estel. That's what they'd call me. The Elves call me Estel.  
  
You've always called me Aragorn... But there is hope now.  
  
[Open your eyes  
  
Open up wide]  
  
This is nothing short of a miracle.  
  
I caress your cheek with my palm, so thankful for the life that was restored in you. Your eyes slowly flutter open, and stare. I can read your emotions.  
  
A strange mix of surprise, anger, joy, sadness, depression and...something else. The something else must have taken over. Without wasting a second, you threw your arms around my neck and clung to me, ignoring your numerous wounds.  
  
Were those knife wounds?  
  
It doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you're alive.  
  
And I am grateful.  
  
Then I held you as tight as I could, though I listened to the rational part of my overwhelmed mind and made sure I didn't hurt you.  
  
I don't want to lose you. Ever. And I don't think I ever will.   
  
You look up at me, a smile gracing your features, and that is all that I'll ever need.

_____

...I hate this fic.


End file.
